


your only flaw

by kenopsia (indie)



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Big Friendship Feelings, M/M, Speeches, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 01:39:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14822777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indie/pseuds/kenopsia
Summary: “This is Jon Lovett,” Favs says, to a room of his closest friends. They know. The screen changes to a map of Qatar. “Lovett has historically broken up with men for many serious and important reasons, including but not limited to: the guy he was seeing did not give adequate notice with his turn signal. Someone pronounced Qatar with a hard-Q. One guy was a cat person.”





	your only flaw

**Author's Note:**

> y'all pls use good judgement and your best behavior.

There is a picture of Jon Lovett on the big screen, and Favs looks far too amused. Ronan, looking devastatingly handsome at his elbow, looks equally amused.

“This is going to be awesome,” he says, smirking. Jon knows he’s smirking at his expense, but he’s so charmed by how attractive he is that he leans in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth anyway, heart thrilling in his chest.

“This is Jon Lovett,” Favs says, to a room of his closest friends. They know. The screen changes to a map of Qatar. “Lovett has historically broken up with men for many serious and important reasons, including but not limited to: the guy he was seeing did not give adequate notice with his turn signal. Someone pronounced Qatar with a hard-Q. One guy was a cat person.”

Lovett laughs, shaking his head at Favs, and the audience laughs with him.

“Today, Jon Lovett is sitting next to the love of his life.”

Ronan is full of beautiful lines. In profile, Jon can see many of them: the slope of his face and edge of his jaw, the full curve of his mouth. Jon is already watching him when Favs says that, and he hitches a breath. It isn’t news to Ronan, of course, but the sight of Ronan hearing that line hits Jon in the chest like a hammer. He wants to trace the planes of him with his fingertip.

He settles for grabbing his hand under the table, entwining them and bringing them up to rest on the tablecloth between them where he can see the slanting afternoon sun glint off of his wedding band.

“I know this for certain, and I’ll tell you exactly when I realized it. Two years ago, Ronan was doing his damndest to work himself to death, and every time I saw him for six or eight months, he looked like he was ready to sit down and not get back up again. Once, he was so exhausted that he fell asleep at a dinner party, mid dinner, with _food in his mouth._ And Jon Lovett, my finicky best friend who once dumped a man who tweeted a corny joke to his mom, did not hesitate to _retrieve it._ And then he put him to bed, looking all the while like Ronan was doing something wildly charming.”

“Mutiny,” Ronan mutters, low enough that only Jon can hear him, but the whole room is looking at him, brimming with amusement. Jon is similarly thrilled that this speech has really turned around in his favor.

“I assure you, it was not,” Favs confides, grinning, handsome and golden and mischevious. Favs has the audience eating out of his hand, even as Ronan approaches a dangerous shade of red. “But that’s — that’s always how he looks at him. When he’s dressed up and dressed down, when he’s winning awards and championing human rights. Even when he’s removing chicken from his sleeping mouth. I’d known he loved him before that, but that’s when it landed, for me, that Ronan was it for Jon. That he’d be part of our weird family forever. Also, I can say all this about him because he’s supernaturally handsome, and he can only benefit from these human interest pieces.”

“Anyways, in case this ends up on twitter and Lovett’s exes see it, I just want to be clear. Don’t at me. Your problem wasn’t that you had too many throw pillows or used cursive too often to leave household notes or clipped your nails on the subway. Well. Maybe that was your problem, subway guy, and you know who you are. But everyone else. There’s probably nothing wrong with you. Your only flaw was not being Ronan Farrow. No hard feelings.”

Favs’ eyes are dark and serious, mouth crooked around a smile. He tilts his head at Lovett and holds his gaze for a long moment and says, “Mazel tov,” Jon feels suspended and warm and spinning, held up by his gaze and Ronan’s hand and the well wishes of everyone who came to celebrate them. “L’chaim,” he finishes, and the echo is loud in the private room.

Jon Lovett isn’t crying. It’s just hard to see Favs all of the sudden. Perhaps there’s been a gas leak.


End file.
